


Planting Seeds In A Garden You Never Get To See

by wafflesandpancakes



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Crying, I never say dead i always say disappeared ok, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kinda, M/M, Sad, Songfic, idk how to tag this, just to get that straight, music references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25334992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wafflesandpancakes/pseuds/wafflesandpancakes
Summary: Charles has to pull over when it all becomes too much. There, on a parking spot in the middle of nowhere, he finally lets all of it out.oryou know what date it is and that fics are my way of dealing with emotions
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Lando Norris (implied)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 60





	Planting Seeds In A Garden You Never Get To See

**Author's Note:**

> hey.  
> it's me, back at it again, dealing with my stuff through fanfics.  
> I've been feeling a bit off so I needed to write something sad, and the fact that it's July 17th isn't making it better.  
> Enjoy though.
> 
> And if you need help, don't be afraid to ask. There will always be people to talk to.
> 
> \- waffles
> 
> Fanfic title from: "The World Was Wide Enough" - Hamilton : An American Musical  
> Song in the fic: "Just Drive" - Alistair Griffin

His heart clenches. His breathing is short, heavy. His eyes are red and puffy. His hands tremble, tighten the grip around the steering wheel. The rain is hammering onto the roof, drowning out every other sound. But not his thoughts. His thoughts are running wild in his head, giving him a headache, something pounding beneath his forehead. A static sound, always there, never over, but easy to ignore after a while. He sighs, the sigh is hiccupped and has not the calming effect he has hoped it would have, so he starts the blinker, indicating that he wants to leave the highway. He pulls over, careful as the road is slippery, and brings his car to a halt once he reaches a suitable parking spot. Only know he notices how tense his body his, how much he has been holding back the sobs that now shake his body, now as he can relax, can cry in peace without fearing to crash his car against the next tree.

His phone rings but he decides to ignore it. He knows who it is, even without having to look, he knows that it's Pierre, concerned about where he is, he has promised to be back at eight, now it's nine and he hasn't even reached half of the way. He knows that the other is concerned, he would be too if it wasn't him everyone was concerned about. What he's doing isn't normal, it isn't what he should be doing, but no one is stopping him. His conscience, the good angel on his shoulder, the one who made the right decisions had disappeared a long time ago. And no matter what, nothing would bring him back.

The ringing subsides. Starts again. Stops. An eternal cycle. He ignores it. Opens his seatbelt, pushes his seat back. Pulls up his legs, rests his chin on his knees. The ringing becomes one with the background noises, the rain hitting the roof in the ever-the-same rhythm. Everything becomes one. He becomes one with the world around him, every sound becomes one and the same. Nothing matters anymore. Nothing has ever mattered after he disappeared. The rhythm halters. Becomes stronger. Fades away again. Every part plays together. And then they are being dragged apart. Staccato. Legato. Staccatissimo. Once a beautiful melody, once being able to play together, now all playing at once, at the same time, but not together anymore. It hasn’t played together since he’s gone. It hurts his head, the static noise becomes stronger.

He shakes his head and turns on the radio. Hopes that the music might help. That the music drowns out every other part of the symphony, turns this cacophony into euphony. Oh, how wrong he is, oh, how much his life hates him. In the end, life has never loved him, has it? It has never been kind to him, it has only brought him suffering. How should one love life if life was so harsh to them?

“ _There is a star that lights the road. Will it take me to the end? Well, I don’t know._ ”

He drops his head into his hands. The tears come up again, falling into his hands and running down his cheeks. Out of all the possible songs, it has to be this one. The one song that manages to break his heart over and over again, which tears it into small shreds before stomping onto it. He hates and loves it. It reminds him of the good and the bad times, of everything they have promised each other once. It reminds him of the one person that has been at his side for all of his life, the one person he could trust and the one person that has disappeared, that has been torn from his side from one second to the other.

“ _I wanna be the only one to make it to the light. Take it to the edge where I have died a thousand times. And maybe I could be the one to ride into the setting sun tonight. And just drive._ ”

His hands are fully covered in tears as he looks up again, the grief disappearing from his mind and body, anger flooding through his veins. He was supposed to be here at his side, not gone. He had never had any right to disappear and leave him like that, alone with his emotions and his destructive actions. He had promised to be at his side. He had promised that they would be together on a podium, had promised that they would reign the sport. And then he had stepped into the car and left. Leaving his legacy and a young man with a broken heart.

He takes a deep breath. His fists hit the steering wheel on the side, once, twice, thrice. He stops counting and continues punching. Letting his emotions take his eternal steering wheel, powering himself out as if he’s in his gym, training. He only lets his hands rest when they start to hurt, an odd pounding in his knuckles, and he knows that they will hurt but he doesn’t care. Emptiness has resided in his body, the feeling of having accomplished nothing. The realization that whatever happens, whatever he does, it won’t bring him back. Neither him nor his dad nor Anthoine. But he sees that he can do one thing, one simple thing, to keep him, keep them, alive in his heart and in everyone’s minds: He can tell their story. He can do everything in his power to keep their legacy alive.

“ _Breathing out, I breathe it in. Broken down but I will live to fight again._ ”

His mind starts to work again. His thoughts have become quieter, he has pushed them back into a drawer which he doesn’t want to open any time soon. The static noise has faded away. He’s back in the reality, he can feel his body properly again, he’s not crying anymore - There are no tears left to cry. The sounds start to come back, the rain has gotten its rhythm back, the radio is just a simple melody in the background. The orchestra is harmonizing again.

He hears the phone again. Wants to ignore it, but the ringing becomes too much. He grabs his phone, halting. It's not Pierre. Why isn't it Pierre? It should be Pierre. It's _always_ Pierre. But no, this time around it's not. It's Lando, it's Alex, it's George and even Max. It's Antonio. It’s Daniel. It’s Seb. It’s Lorenzo and Arthur. And there, at the bottom of the list, it’s Pierre. It’s always Pierre.

He looks through his messages. Answers a few of them quickly, some empty words along the lines of ‘Yes, I am okay, no need to worry.’, some others more detailed. He promises his brothers to be home as quickly as possible and sends them his location. Tells Daniel that he’s not in a good shape but getting through it. Tells Seb to stop being such a dad, but that he appreciates his concern (and maybe, just maybe, there’s a little ‘love you, sebby... I’ll miss you’ at the end).

He reads Pierre’s message last, with a smile on his lips.

**Pear <3**

_Charlie? Where are you?_ _  
_ _You promised me to be home soon._ _  
_ _Or rather an hour ago._ _  
_ _Charles?_ _  
_ _Call me. Please._

He looks at the messages. Closes the chat. Opens it again. He realizes something. He’s fine. Pierre doesn’t need to worry.

 _Sorry, had to stop the car for a while._ _  
_ _Needed some… me time._ _  
_ _But I’m fine. Going to play a round of CoD with the others once I’m home._ _  
_ _Gonna text you when I’m there._ _  
_ _Have a nice time with Cate and kiss her on the cheek from me._

 _Are you sure?_ _  
_ _I can come over, I really can._ _  
_ _She understands it_

 _No. Please. It’s an evening for the two of you._ _  
_ _I am fine._

_Can I trust you not to do anything stupid?_

_Might call Max an idiot, but otherwise, I promise you not to do anything stupid._

_… okay, good._ _  
_ _Love you, Charlie._

_Love you too, Pear <3 _

He closes the chat, opens the other. Still, he has promised Pierre to do something. And he’s not one to break promises.

**Twitch Gang (and Max)**

(Feral) Baby <3    
_Charles? Are you okay?_

Tall Boi <3    
_Lando’s right, are you okay? Haven’t said a word today._

Other Tall Boi <3    
_You know you can always talk to us._ _  
_ _Even to Max (he won’t admit it but it’s true)_

Max    
_Shut it, Albon._ _  
_ _… But he’s right tho_

Tonio <3    
_Okay, I tried to call him, he’s not answering._

(Feral) Baby <3    
_Shit, you’re right._

He scrolls through the other messages, sighing. They are truly concerned about him. They are worried. They _care_ about him. Even Max. _Even Max_. It warms his heart, and he thanks God for being blessed with such good friends.

 _Hey, no need to worry._ _  
_ _I’m fine._ _  
_ _Had to stop during the drive home, but it’s alright_ _  
_ _… Up for a round of CoD once I’m home?_

Other Tall Boi <3    
_You can’t just ignore our text and calls and act as if nothing has happened!_ _  
_ _We were worried about you!_

Tall Boi <3    
_I’m quoting Max on this one:  
Shut it, Albon. _ _  
_ _I would be down for a round or a few more. And I think the others are too._

Max    
_To be honest…_

Tall Boi <3    
**_Max_ **

Max    
_It was a joke!_ _  
_ _Jesus..._

Charles smiles and wants to put his phone away again, leaving them to their little discussion, but a little pop-up notification catches his attention. He clicks on it, not surprised to which chat it leads him.

**(Feral) Baby <3**

_Have a safe drive home._ _  
_ _(and help me win against the boys, please)_

 _Of course._ _  
_ _And thank you._

He stops. Should he… He should.

 _Hey, uhm…_ _  
_ _Can we talk afterwards?_ _  
_ _Just the two of us?_ _  
_ _… miss your voice…_

 _How could I ever say no to that?_ _  
_ _Miss all of you._  
 _But if I can’t have you here, I at least want your voice_

_ <3 _

_ <3 _

He puts his phone away and starts the car.

Maybe life doesn't hate him as much as he thought.

**Author's Note:**

> \- this is a work of fiction. nothing of this, apart from the obvious, has ever happened in real life. comment and kudos are always appreciated -
> 
> It's @wafflesvandoorne on tumblr


End file.
